Breaking
by sylphie3000
Summary: Maybe not as dramatic as the title leads, but I'm bad with titles so there you go. Really, it's more of a conversation, or a moment, or whatever you want to call it, from Cullen's POV. The Inquisitor's my OC Kali Lavellan, who's my bae and deadly in love with Cullen. There is some swearing, only because I couldn't help it. Reviews always help. Cullen x Lavellan


**Hey. It's been a while, huh? I'm horrible, I know, but here's the thing: I have like, no inspiration. At all. And then DA:I came along, and my life and motivations all left, and it was just… ahem. Either way, have a Cullen POV! It was short and took me like two hours total. Feel free to review! Happy Holidays you lot. Sylphie out.**

_I swore to myself that I would never again feel such nonsense towards anyone, much less a mage. Never again. My life would be spent in servitude, guarding and protecting innocents from these abominations waiting to happen. _

_A pity, really, that things never seem to go according to plan, then, because between the Mage Rebellion, that ungodly hole in the sky, and, most recently, Haven, I really should have been too distracted to so much as notice the beauty of a woman's body, or just how violet raven-black hair could turn if caught in the correct light. It's almost scary how much this woman has weaved her way into my mind, taking over from the inside out and leaving me staring at inappropriate moments. That is to say, _all the time_._

_Leliana says I'm beginning to turn into a stalker. I'm beginning to believe her. _

These thoughts all come fast as lightning through my head on an endless loop, taking what was _supposed_ to be an afternoon spent reading reports from the Hinterlands and turning it into a vortex of self-pity.

_Commander,_

_The situation here is less urgent than expected. With the Herald's help, we have secured a new source of water. Already the morale amongst the men here is better for it…_

_Commander,_

_The situation here is less urgent than expected. With the Herald's help…_

_Commander,_

I've been staring at this piece of parchment for half an hour, and I still haven't managed to comprehend anything past 'the morale is good. Water good. Herald help.' _This is not getting anything done_, I decide, stretching as I pull back from the desk. A walk seems to be in order.

"Naomi, if anyone asks for me, I'm…" at a loss for words, apparently. I rub the back of my neck, thinking of a suitable excuse.

Fortunately for me, I hired on the best assistant money can buy. "Busy?" she says, smiling.

"Maybe not the most creative excuse, but it'll do for now," I nod to her on my way out the door.

"Have fun with the Herald, ser," she calls after me, the words traced with teasing laughter. I ignore it, hoping that I can pass off the light blush as an effect of the mountain cold. I walk down the battlements, not too far, but putting enough distance between my self and my damnable office that I can finally think.

I lean on the battlements and let myself be blinded by the snow on the Frostbacks, lost in thought. Could I talk to her? Probably not –she said we should spend more time together, and we keep running into each other, but she probably just said that to make me feel better, didn't she? _Damn._ I close my eyes and rub my face, letting out a groan of overworked, over-thought frustration. The whispers are coming back. They want me to come, to take it, just a sip, I'll feel better, just _take it_—

"Are you all right, Ser Cullen?"

_Shit_. I jerk up, blinking one concerned Kali's face into existence through the afterimage. The afterimage fades, along with the whispers. For the moment.

"What? Yes, I'm fine, thank you. Just… there's so much to do. It's a bit overwhelming, to be honest," my words come out quicker than I wanted, maybe too fast. I hope desperately I don't sound like I'm hiding something. My eyes flick to the mountains, then back to her. I'm trying my best not to rub my neck, but it's a losing battle.

She laughs at my embarrassment, ending in a most unladylike squeak. Her whole face flushes; she must hate her laugh. Odd, because I find it charming. "I'm sorry –my laugh is horrible, isn't it? You wouldn't _believe_ the looks I got back with my Clan! And Creators forbid a shem ever hear me… I don't even want to remember," she looks down, shaking her head.

"Really? I like it," I reply, looking away. I _really_ hope I can pass the pink on my cheeks off on the cold. "It suits you."

"You think?" she says, surprised. She's staring at me, isn't she? _Maker's breath._

"Of course." Would I lie to her?

She laughs again, covering her mouth when she squeaks. "Thank you, Ser Cullen." She's quiet a moment, flexing her hands nervously. "Would you… um, that is to say, would you care for some company?" it's stuttering and embarrassed and completely endearing.

"I would not mind your company, my lady," I smile at her, trying to calm her. She returns the gesture, flashing teeth as bright as snow.

"Call me Kali, please. There're too many titles and too many shemlen shoving them in my face. Even Varric, of all people, won't stop calling me _Inquisitor._" She scrunches her nose in disgust, making an adorable furrow between her eyebrows.

I'm surprised by the gesture. Many people in her position wouldn't want to be referred to as anything other than their title; although, she _is_ more the modest type than others in her position. "As you wish, Kali," I say, and turn back to the mountains. I hear her step up beside me, close –is it just me, or is it warmer out here? I force myself to relax, using the railing to brace myself and I feel her do the same.

"I know how you feel," she murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear.

"Inquisi- erm, Kali?" I look at her, confused. She's squinting out over the mountains, her face serious. To many, she may seem relaxed, but if one looked a little closer, every line in her body screams tension.

"About being overwhelmed. I know how it feels, to have so many lives depending on your decisions. Every time a soldier dies, or a missive fails, it's like a kick in the face. But I can't fail…I can't. I'm a figurehead now, there's nothing for it." Her voice breaks the more she talks -she looks down, and it's then I realize she's crying. _We've been at Skyhold nearly two and a half months, and nobodies asked how she _feels _about running half of Thedas? Maker's breath, it's a wonder she hasn't jumped off the ramparts by now_, I think, and desperately try to find a way to console her.

"Kali? I, um… I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up." And I am. What was I thinking?

I reach out, hesitantly, and put my hand on her shoulder. I expect her to turn away, and I'm surprised when she does not; instead, she turns into the touch, facing me but looking down, tears running down her cheeks. She looks so helpless right then, nothing like the beautiful, strong woman that led the Inquisition to Skyhold, or even the terrified, broken mage that fell out of the Breach. This is a whole new brand of scared, and one I know well. I pull her into my arms, and she sobs against my breastplate.

"Shh, Kali, shh" I whisper to her, rubbing her hair. Her arms come around me and she's suddenly holding on for dear life, crying quietly. It's almost silent, up here all alone, the moments punctuated by her soft sobs and the rustle of her hair. I kiss the crown of her head and keep my lips there, murmuring nothings to try and soothe her.

It works well enough, and soon she's stepping back, embarrassed and puffy-eyed. "Thank you for…" she won't look at me. "For listening. It's not something many would have done. Thank you."

"I was happy to help, Kali," I say. She's not the only one that's embarrassed; I'm rubbing my neck and trying not to stutter or blush, which is taking quite a lot of effort. More than it should have. Why am I so embarrassed? I have no idea, but at this rate I'm going to be brighter than Leliana's hair.

She smiles, a small and fragile thing, but suddenly I can't breathe. "Maybe…" she starts, her smile waxing more uncertain than happy. I wait for her to finish, but the silence does nothing but spread uncomfortably.

She wouldn't be asking…? Oh, Maker, she _wouldn't be asking?_ No, of course not. She's the _Inquisitor, for Andraste's sake. _There's no way in the Void she would want to—

"Perhaps, if my lady allows it, we could… meet again?" I hear myself saying. _Wait, what? Shit, Cullen, __**no**_, I mentally kick myself, trying to keep my internal cringe inside my body.

Her face lights up like candles on a Saturnalia dawn. "I would like that. Very much," she says, nodding once, twice for good measure.

There_ might _have been a moment, if not for the runner that comes trotting up, all polite _Mam's _and _Ser's_, and a report passed on to Kali, who's suddenly the Inquisitor again. It's really quite incredible, how fast his perception of her changes; one moment, she's a beautiful, kind woman, breaking woman, and the next the _oh so fearless_ leader of the Inquisition.

"I'm so sorry, Cullen, but I have to-" she rushes, and I curse both the runner and the Inquisition for breaking up what _could have been a moment_.

"I –oh, no, it's no problem," I stammer, ever the eloquent one.

"We really should try to meet again sometime, though. Herald's Rest? Tomorrow, after duties?" I have never _once_ seen her face so hopeful. Or felt my face heat up this bad. _This… oh, Maker._

"I would like that." You know what else I like? My complete lack of a stutter. That felt good, if nothing else.

"Good." She nods, flashing one more half smile before turning away. "I'll see you then, Commander."

_Maker, I feel better than I have in __**weeks**__, _I think as I walk back to my office. Although, how I'm ever going to get back to work _now_ is a question far beyond my ability to answer.


End file.
